


Dragon… Prince?

by Cherry_Sofa_729



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Animal Traits, Animal Transformation, Caretaking, Caring Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dragon Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dragon Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Eating, Eating a lot, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Horns, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Pain, Self Confidence Issues, Sick Character, Sickfic, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29514987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry_Sofa_729/pseuds/Cherry_Sofa_729
Summary: Roman wakes up hot, achy, and hungry.Clearly he’s fine, right? Those scales on his back and the burning in his stomach doesn’t mean anything, right?Or- Roman goes through dragon puberty
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 25
Kudos: 70





	1. I’m too hot (hot damn)

He was once again, way too hot. 

Roman twisted and turned in his blankets, wondering exactly when the phrase “fiery passion” had gotten so literal for him. 

He ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair and looked at the clock. 12:48 am. He squintedat the numbers on the air conditioner across the room. 55 degrees. 

Then WHY was he so bloody fucking hot?!

A 55 degree room should not be able to leave a sweat puddle on his beautiful red satin sheets. What was  up with him? Was he sick? Did he have a fever? 

Is it too late to take a cold shower?

He felt fine, other than the heat, his throat wasn’t sore, stomach was fine, there was no indication of sickness. 

Maybe he should get a thermometer. 

By “get” of course, Roman meant “summon.” So with a flick of his wrist he stuck it under his tongue. 

He waited for the beep, thinking about what the problem could be. 

Nothing had changed in Thomas’ life, not really. Well, he did pick up a book for the first time in a while. Roman and Logan had compromised on a fantasy novel involving dragons. It was quickly becoming Roman’s favourite. 

_ Beep.  _ He took the thermometer out and checked it. 104 degrees. 

Oh so nothing was wrong he could lay down and go back to sleep-

104 degrees?!!

That was a fever! And a pretty bad one! But then why wasn’t he feeling sick? The stupid thermometer must be broken. 

He threw the thermometer across the room and flopped back down onto his blankets. He was fine. Nothing weird was going on. 

—————

Something weird was going on. 

Roman woke up hungrier than he’d ever been in his  life.  Not to mention, because of this hunger he had woken up at six am. 

Out of sheer willpower, and desire to not embarrass himself by eating out the entire fridge before anyone else even woke up, Roman blindly summoned whatever came to mind and furiously set about consuming  _ all of it.  _

He didn’t even know what he was eating, all he knew was that he was too hungry to function. 

“Hey kiddo! Time to get up, I’ve got breakfast made downstairs!” Patton called, and when had all that time passed? He was still hungry… 

Well, if he was hungry, (and he really, truly was, shut up diet culture) he should keep eating, right? 

He hopped out of bed and went downstairs. 

—————

Everyone was staring at him. 

And rightfully so, because Roman had never, ever in his life, put so much food on his plate. 

“Hungry, kiddo?” Patton joked. 

“Yeah. I’m starving.” Roman said completely seriously, starting on his stack of pancakes. 

Fifteen minutes later, Logan clicked his tongue. “Roman, slow down, you’re going to be sick.”

Ro rolled his eyes and shoved another forkful into his mouth. “I’m fine, specs.” He mumbled

Twenty minutes later, Virgil was concerned. “Jeez, Ro, how are you still hungry?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve been hungry all morning.”

“Maybe you’re not actually hungry and you just think you are.” 

“No, I am, feel.” He said, letting Virgil put a hand on his stomach. 

Virgil’s mouth formed an O shape when he realized that his stomach wasn’t even tight, and it was grumbling as though annoyed that Roman stopped eating for even a second. 

“What’s going on with you?” Virgil said without expecting an answer. 

Roman shrugged. “Maybe it’s a growth spurt or something.” 

“Seems a little late.”

Well, how was Roman supposed to know what was going on?

He could’ve sat at that table and eaten all day, but he had work to do, so he put his plate in the sink, bid everyone good day and went upstairs to work on the next script. 

He said he wasn’t going to snack anymore. He had enough, he definitely  should  be full. 

So then why was he still hungry?!

He huffed with frustration, gave into his rumbly stomach and summoned a jumbo bag of Disney shaped fruit gummies to eat as he worked. 

—————

This pattern continued for three days. Roman was constantly hungry, to the point where it was rare to see him without a snack in his hands. Whenever he tried to stop eating even for a quick cuddle with one of the others, his stomach would quickly growl. It was like being a teenager again, but  _ worse.  _

By day three, Logan requested he give him a checkup. Which Roman wasn’t going to complain about, he’d  _also_ like to stop eating everything in sight. 

“Step on the scale, please.” Roman did, preparing himself to see an absolutely atrocious number. 200 pounds, probably more, god as long as he didn’t cry in Logan’s office-

“What the hell?”

Roman opened his eyes to see the blinking number staring at him. 175 pounds. 

“But- but your average weight is 178 pounds!” Logan exclaimed. 

“You mean I  _ lost weight?!” _

“Yes, though according to my calculations you’ve been eating almost double your recommended 3100 calories in the past 3 days. I don’t even want to _think_ about what would happen if you went back to eating like you were previously.”

Roman rocked back and forth on his heels. “So… what’s wrong?”

“I- I don’t know,” Logan said hesitantly, as though admitting that he didn’t know something brought him physical pain, “it seems like your metabolism suddenly went completely off the charts.”

“So what do I do?”

Logan bit his lip, made a note of a couple things, and frowned. Which didn’t worry Roman _at all._

“You’ll need to increase your caloric intake by 250% from what a man your size should be eating. Now you clearly started to do this, but since it is rather inconvenient I’d recommend basing your diet around calorie-dense foods like carbs and proteins.”

_Great._ This was exactly how he wanted this visit to go. He looked at Logan with puppy eyes, as though that would magically make him know what was wrong with him. 

“I don’t know whats wrong, Roman, but I promise I’ll look into it.”

With a dejected sigh, Roman went back to his room and flopped down on his bed. His stomach decided that was a great moment to growl and groan at him. Apparently 30 minutes with Logan was simply too long without eating. 

He decided to follow the doc’s advice and get something high calorie. With a flick of his hand he summoned a box of protein drinks, cracked one open, and continued to work on the next video script. 

—————

The ferocious hunger didn’t fade, but large portions of calorie-dense foods were becoming a lifesaver, and at least he was getting somewhat used to the strange heat he couldn’t explain. 

He grew two inches, then three, then four. His clothes barely fit him anymore, and he swapped them all out for breathable, cooling fabrics, crop tops, tank tops, and shorts so he’d stop overheating. And even though it pained him to do it, he adopted his brother’s habit of sleeping naked at night, when the heat was the worst. 

So he dealt with it. He had it handled, all under control. As long as nothing else happened, he’d be fine. 

—————

Something else happened. (Wasn’t that just his luck?)

He woke up hot. Hot and itchy. Heat was searing his throat, burning up his lungs, he couldn’t breathe- 

Itchy. Itchy all over his back, coated in sweat, he thrashed and twisted in his blankets trying to scratch. There was a deep burn in his gut, like a low, smouldering fire. 

He needed out, he needed  help. 

His mouth was dry and tasted like ashes. Water. He needed water most of all. 

A cold shower would stop the heat, it’d soothe the itch, he’d be better in a bit, if he could get to the bathroom and take a cold shower.

Roman stumbled to his feet, vision swimming, the fire inside him blazing somehow even hotter. He hadn’t eaten in nearly 9 hours, he was weak, it was hard to walk the few steps to his bathroom without collapsing. 

He cranked the shower as cold as it could go and slipped under the spay, fully clothed. The water chilled his boiling skin, even numbing the raging itch on his back. 

He opened his mouth to catch the spray, gulping down the freezing water. He could’ve sworn his throat let out a puff of steam as he swallowed. 

God, his back was so itchy! What was wrong? Now that his brain wasn’t boiling alive, he tried to scratch under and over, and not really reaching that spot. 

He tried not to slip as he backed up to the corner of the shower and started to rub his back against it. 

Now he was mostly out of the spray, but scratching felt too good to stop. 

Ahhh, yeah, a little to the left, oh yeah that was the spot, perfect…

He scratched with his nails and the corner until- 

Something ripped. Fear jolted through him, his breath coming in frantic pants as he slowly looked down. 

There, on the edge of the tub, was a thin sheet of dead skin, pressed with the imprint of scales. 

—————

Scales. SCALES. 

He was screaming. He was definitely screaming. 

Did he have scales? Since when? Oh god, what if they spread, what if they reached his face and then he looked like Janus-

No no no. This was fine. He could handle it! He was fine-

Fucking hell this wasn’t fine! He had scales! Like Janus! Like some sort of monster!

Okay. Okay. Calm down. Let’s stop worrying about problems and start fixing them.

First step was a couple protein shakes which he summoned and downed to keep his energy up and his stomach from hating him. Step two- 

Was to look at the scales. 

He took a deep breath, turned off the shower and stepped out. He faced the mirror with a look of determination and slowly twisted around. 

The blood drained from his face. It was so much worse than he expected. 

Red scales covered his shoulder blades and upper spine, before trailing off in a sort of upside down triangle to his lower back. 

He was screaming again. 

It was so ugly. Hideous, really. Like clusters of acne or a rash across his back. Absolutely disgusting. 

He was going to puke. 

The shame, the heat, the horrible night’s sleep, it was all too much. He leaned over the toilet and vomited. 

He rested his head on the cold tile and sniffled. Of course Thomas thought of him as a monster. Of course he was changing. He was turning into the fat, ugly, disgusting scaly beast Thomas thought he was. 

He’d be locked away in a tower somewhere, chained up, forced to eat the poor knights that come to defeat him…

Tears rolled down his overheated cheeks, his chest shaking with sobs. His throat burned from the heat and the vomit, mouth coated with ash and bile, flames licking his struggling lungs. He didn’t deserve help, he deserved this. Sobbing on the bathroom floor, only his scales for company. 

—————

He woke up with a pounding headache and backache. That’s what he gets for sleeping on the floor. 

Ow. _Owwwww,_ everything hurt. 

Oh, oh  god  everything hurt. 

“Don’t move.” Someone was with him. 

SOMEONE WAS WITH HIM?!

He bolted up, and his back  screamed.  Like every bone and tendon had been snapped. His head felt like it was being split in half, pain so bad he couldn’t open his eyes. 

“Get out!” He screeched, fiery hot pain blazing through him. 

“Shhh Shh Shh. I know this is scary, take deep breaths.” Everything hurt so much, he couldn’t tell who was speaking… 

They saw his scales. They knew he was a freak! 

He whimpered, starting to sob. They were going to lock him away forever now. 

“Breathe, Roman. What hurts?”

“B-back-“ he choked out. “Head.”

“I thought so. Let’s get you to bed, love.” 

He was hot and sweaty. His scales were gross. Why was he being picked up? 

The arms were strong and steady. He could cling to them. They made the pain better. 

Oh, oh the bed was soft. Very soft. It smelled like him. The memory foam cradled his aching back and head as he was laid down. 

There was a warm presence next to him. They were petting his sweaty forehead. He didn’t like that they were warm, but the hand on his head soothed a bit of the pain. 

“I know it’s painful. Give it a few hours and the headache at least should be gone.”

His stomach growled. No wonder, since it had been 10 hours since his last meal. That’s why he was too tired to open his eyes or lift his head. 

A spoonful of something was brought to his lips and he happily accepted it. 

He couldn’t tell what is was other than it was rich and fatty and delicious. He accepted spoonful after spoonful until they stopped coming and he was decently full. 

“That’s it, Roman.” A cold cloth was put on his forehead and he relaxed as some of the pain and searing heat faded. 

“Go back to sleep, love.”

And he did. 

—————

Roman woke up confused and still in pain. 

How long had he been asleep?

The pain in his head had collected at two blazing points that felt like knives being driven out of his forehead. His back was in a similar state, with two horrible points of pain just below his shoulder blades. 

The heat was back with a vengeance, leaving him sweaty and boiling under his tightly-tucked blankets. Kicking and thrashing only did so much to remove them in his pained and weak state. 

Stupid scales. What were they doing to him? Killing him? Poisoning him slowly? 

He opened his eyes. The sunlight streamed through the window and illuminated the room, but Roman glared at the extra heat as though it had killed his family. 

Someone was opening his door. 

“Janus?” He croaked out.

The snake was wearing a light pastel sweater which boggled Roman’s feeble mind. It was so hot! Far too hot for a sweater. He smiled weakly as he walked over to Roman’s fluffy bed. 

“Roman, do you know what’s happening to you?”

“I’m becoming a monster because Thomas hates me.” His voice crackled like an old radio. 

He prepared for Janus to nod. For him to be exiled to the dark side and forced to live in the filth with the snake and his brother. That was the only reasonable explanation for this sudden onslaught of horrible, monstrous changes. He was being cast out. Abandoned. 

“No, love. That’s not it.”

He didn’t have the mental brainpower to figure out what Janus meant. “I’m hot…” He mumbled, wrinkling the nose at the smell of his own sweat. 

“Roman, listen to me please.”

“My mouth is dry.”

“Roman, I’m trying to explain what’s happening to you.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“You’re gaining some animal characteristics. Like I had years ago, and Patton had after the whole frog thing.”

Roman furrowed his brow and felt his heart hammer in his chest. He wasn’t being cast out?

“You’re becoming the same animal as Remus, though his formed about a couple years ago.”

No no no that was even worse… they were supposed to be opposites… 

“You’re becoming a dragon, Roman.” Janus said with a soft, gentle smile. 

—————

No. No no no no. That didn’t make sense. That wasn’t true.

Why did that make sense?!

The increased appetite, the growth spurts, the heat, the scales, oh no…

Janus was  right. 

No! Dragons were evil, despicable beings that took beautiful princesses hostage! He wasn’t a dragon, he refused to be one!

“The heat is from your internal temperature raising enough to sustain your inner fire. Of course, that inner fire isn’t lit yet, but Remus will come shortly to help with that.”

“Nooooo.” He didn’t want an inner fire. He wanted to go back to normal, where he wasn’t hungry all the time and he could exercise without melting and nothing  hurt. 

“Roman, if you don’t let us light it, your body will just get hotter and hotter until it lights on its own.”

Well that also didn’t sound good.

“You’ll feel much better and all cooled down if you let us spark the fire, okay?”

Spark the- what? What were they going to do to him?

He struggled but Janus gently held him down. “It’ll be really quick, I promise.”

Remus came around the doorway with a box of matches. 

“Hey Ro, why didn’t you tell anyone this shit was happening? It fucking sucks ass!” He said, jumping onto Roman’s bed. “Anyway, time to have some fire burn up your insides!”

Roman let out an terrified squawk and Janus gave Remus a withering glare. 

“Sweetie, we’re trying not to scare him.”

Remus rolled his eyes and lit one of the matches. “Open up, Prince pompous.”

Roman glued his lips shut. He wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t going to swallow a match!

“Roman, open.” 

He shook his head. No way, no how. 

Janus gripped his jaw and dug his fingers into Roman’s cheeks, popping his mouth open without his will. 

He struggled and fought, trying to flee as the match came close and closer. Janus tipped his head up and Remus dropped the match down his throat. 

It was hot, for sure. It burned his throat from the inside, but as it slipped down and landed in his stomach, he felt a sudden, powerful woosh of air inside him, like, well, like a fire igniting. 

The heat that had been suffocating him for days suddenly cooled, like an air conditioner had finally been turned on. The new, deep burning feeling in his stomach felt oddly comfortable, very warm, but also… safe. Protective. 

Janus was rubbing his belly with two hands and holding him steady with a couple more. “See, now that wasn’t that bad.” He hummed, and Roman nodded a little, relishing in finally being  cool. 

Janus was patting his stomach now, for some reason. He didn’t even feel nauseous. Just a bit bloated. 

Oof. Really bloated. 

He whined, now leaning into Janus’ belly rubs. “Yeah, it’s a side effect of the fire. Fire creates gas, you know. It should stop once your body gets used to it.”

Remus summoned a sheet of paper and rolled it into a cone. “Okay, this is gonna sound weird but it’s the easiest way to do it. When you burp, aim at this piece of paper and  _ push,  _ okay? Like you’re trying to vomit.”

“…What?”

“It’s to help you breathe fire. Now burp and  push. ”

This was surely the most undignified, least princely thing Roman had ever done. But as he felt the air bubbles rise up his throat, he aimed at the paper, shut his eyes, and for the first time ever, tried to publicly do something rude. 

It felt… weird. His mouth filled with a burnt taste as a puff of hot air left his mouth. 

When he opened his eyes again, Remus was holding the cone of paper, and it was on fire. 

“Woah! Nice one.” He said, shaking the paper till the fire died. “Pretty big for your first flame. Just like my dick was pretty big the first time Thomas got a boner!”

Roman groaned, collapsing back onto his pillows. “You’re disgusting.” Oh. His voice was scratchy. 

Well, that made sense, he just breathed fire. 

Holy shit he just breathed  fire.

_ Holy fucking shit.  _

He was a dragon! A fire-breathing dragon! Could he do it on command? How hot was it? Was it dangerous to kiss boys if his mouth was full of fire?

These were probably good questions to ask, but the shock had broken his brain, so he couldn’t quite voice them. 

Wait wait wait. Dragons had- they had- 

Wings.

Was that what was hurting his back? Roman sat bolt upright and slapped a hand over his mouth. He was growing WINGS?!

Oh gosh oh gosh this wasn’t good. What would that even be like? Are they just going to grow, or will they burst through his skin like a firecracker?

Would he be able to fly?

Now that was an intriguing thought. He’d like to fly. He’d always imagined it, it was one of his first daydreams with Thomas, flying into the sky and living on a cloud somewhere. 

Wait. Did Remus have wings? He slowly sunk back into his bed as he asked that very question. 

Remus clapped his hands. “Oh he’s a genius!” With a violent shake of his torso, scaly green and black wings stretched and emerged out of thin air behind him. They were quite large, and rather dull. 

Roman gulped. Those were going to come out of him? Out of his back? How? Remus’ were at least six feet long, each. So large, in fact, it made perfect sense that they weren’t out all the time. They were simply too big for most spaces. 

Roman pictured himself skulking around like a brute, knocking into everything with his massive wings, and he wanted to cry. Princes were slight and graceful. Dragons were brutish, mean, and intimidating. 

Janus clicked his tongue. “Remus, what have I said about keeping your wings clean.”

Remus whined and stamped his foot. “It’s not that important!”

“You’re going to get ticks or something.” Janus said with a roll of his eyes. He looked back at Roman. “What do you need, dear? Pain relief? Food? Water? A shower?”

Roman swallowed. “Uh, yes? All of that, would be nice.” Oh that was needy, shit, he shouldn’t- that was selfish of him. “I-I mean, you don’t have to, it’s fine if you don’t-“

“Remus, do you have more dragon meal on hand?” Janus asked, walking to the bathroom to grab a couple painkillers and some water. 

“Yeah, duh, I’m not an idiot.” Remus said, opening a backpack that was in the corner of the room. He pulled out a container of something and opened the lid, and the smell of whatever it was made Roman’s mouth water like a fountain. 

Remus growled low under his breath, scooped up a glob of… well it looked like rice and cat food, with his fingers and popped them in his mouth. 

Janus came back and glared at him. “Remus, that’s for Roman.”

Remus pouted, while Roman continued to state at the delicious smelling food. “What… what is that exactly?”

“Well, it’s about an entire chicken, several steaks, and a ton of vegetables cooked together in broth, blended and added to rice. Oh, and a few scoops of protein powder.”

“You eat it on bread!” Remus squealed, clearly proud of this delicacy. 

Roman didn’t know if he wanted to vomit or salivate. 

The next thing he knew a bowl of the mixture was sitting on his lap, along with a slice of bread. He swallowed his pride, and began to eat.

Oh sweet lord, this so good it must be ambrosia, the food of the gods _.  _ He vaguely recognized it as the same thing he had when he was feverish and basically incoherent, but now that he was awake it tasted even better. Needless to say, he finished the whole bowl, and was surprisingly full at the end. 

Janus handed him a glass of water and a couple pills which he took, to hopefully stop the throbbing pain in his back and head. 

“Do you think you’re up for a shower?”

Roman shrugged. He’d  _ like _ a shower, but that would involve standing. And walking. And his head was still pounding so maybe it wasn’t going to happen. 

“I can help you, if you want.” Janus said with a smile. 

Oh, well, that was tempting, but princely manners came first! Roman shook his head and forced himself up and to his feet, swaying like a skyscraper in a hurricane. He ignored Jan’s outstretched hand and carefully figured out how to walk to his on-suite bathroom. 

He turned the water cold, he had gotten used to icy showers and knew it’d feel heavenly on his hot, achy skin. 

He was glad, of all things, that the shower felt like frozen pellets were beating down on his sore muscles. Amazingly, his scales started to raise up and reveal the skin underneath, and Roman knew it was so he could clean out the dried blood and gunk from when they formed. 

He summoned a mirror in front of him and a mirror behind him so he could look at the scales better. 

So maybe they weren’t  that  ugly. They glittered like the finest rubies, perfectly shaped, and he just knew that his shield would be useless with this natural armour to protect him. 

They weren’t something he wanted, but maybe they weren’t all that ugly. And besides, he could keep them hidden easily. 

Wings, though, might be a challenge to hide. 

Putting that thought on the back burner, he washed his hair and dried it so it was all nice and fluffy. Stumbling back into the bedroom he saw Remus grumpily sitting on the edge of his bed while Jan wiped his wings with a baby wipe. 

“Ah! Roman.” Janus ignored Remus’ squawk as he was shoved off the bed. “Get in, it’s back to bed for you.”

“Why back to bed?” Roman didn’t deny that he was tired, but he was getting kind of sick of sleeping through the entire day. 

“Gotta rest up so those wings can grow. Based on everything they should be out in a few days.”

“Good.” Roman said, flopping down on his side. “They hurt. It sucks.”

This sucks. He thought. All of this. What happened to the totally normal Roman like a week ago? Who didn’t have scales or wings, who just was content being a human goddam being. 

Was this his fault? Did he put this on himself? He was creativity after all. He wanted to be special so badly he turned himself into a dragon? 

Of course he did. Stupid, selfish Roman. 

Something fuzzy nuzzled under his arms and he realized it was Remus’ head. “You smelled upset.” He said with no explanation. 

He opened his arms and Roman accepted the hug, finding that instead of the usual mud and wet dog smell, Remus smelt… comforting. Good. Earthy, like the ground after it rains. 

He curled into a ball with Remus around him. He had to protect his inner flame, curl up tight so it was safe and stayed lit inside his stomach. 

He didn’t know why, really, but it felt right. 

“It’ll be okay, Ro. You’ll come out of this better.” Remus whispered, holding his brother close. “I did, anyway.”

Roman suddenly realized that Remus had gone through this too. He had to change and morph and handle all this discomfort and pain without someone there to hold his hand or walk him through it. 

Roman exhaled slowly, relaxing into his brother’s hold. He would be safe. With Remus there, he’d be safe. 


	2. Call the po-lice and the fireman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horns and wings baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roman goes through a lot of physical pain so if that squicks you be warned!

He woke up to a safe presence around him. 

Oh, and flames were licking at his brain. 

The pain blinded him as he cried out, whining and clutching his burning, aching head. 

Oh god, it hurt. Like a migraine combined with a stab wound, and the knife was stabbing out from inside his head. 

There were murmured voices above him as he thrashed and begged anyone who was listening for some relief. It hurt, it hurt, he was going to die, this was a brain tumour, a stroke, or something worse-

He roared. Loud and long and violent. He roared until he tasted ash in his mouth, calling up to the heavens, begging someone, anyone to help him. 

There were hands pinning him down. Telling him to breathe. He didn’t care, he couldn’t breathe, he needed to scream as loud as possible to reach  someone. 

Something cold was on his head. He let out a low, satisfied growl that sounded more like a purr as the pain numbed slowly. 

He slowly drifted off to sleep again. 

—————

When he came to, he noticed several things. 

One, his head was very very very heavy. 

Two, there was a burn mark on his ceiling. 

Three, Janus and Remus were still there. 

Roman tried to sit up, but- why was his head so frickin  heavy? Like he was balancing two five pound weights near his ears. 

Janus shushed him and made sure he stayed down. 

“Why’s my head heavy?” He mumbled.

Janus bit his lip. “You need to promise that you won’t freak out.”

Freak out? At what? What happened?! Fear curdled in his stomach like spoiled milk. What happened to him??! 

Janus summoned a small hand mirror and turned it around so Roman was looking at his own reflection. 

Needless to say, he freaked out. 

—————

Roman had horns. 

Not small horns. Not cute horns, no. Big. Hulking. Brutish horns. 

They were a shiny, dark red, a burgundy, if you will. They started at his forehead and spiralled up and back, before pointed upwards in a sharp point. They looked-

They looked like Maleficent’s horns, but even closer to his head. Shorter too. 

He had  villain  horns. 

So, upon realizing that, Roman burst into frantic tears. 

“Hey, hey! It’s not bad! They’re cute!” Janus consoled the crying dragon as best he could, but Roman was resolute. 

No! No they weren’t  cute,  they were anything but  cute.

Remus tapped his nails against the hard horn, tracing the twisted, curved grooves. Roman shuttered. He could feel the taps, but- it was like someone pressing on your fingernails. 

“How about you eat, and I’ll polish these up.”

“Do- do you have horns to?” Roman asked. He had to make sure he wasn’t alone, that he wasn’t the more… monstrous twin. 

“Yeah, I keep mine hidden tho. For convenience. They knock against  everything. ”

“Show me!” He whined, and Remus pinched his nose before stepping back and letting the horns reappear out of his skull. His were a dark, forest green, thinner and pointier than Roman’s. They looked like classic devil horns. 

Roman sighed out a breath of relief. At least he wasn’t more monstrous that Remus.

He tried to sit up but the weight of his horns made that impossible. Remus, apparently coming to a solution, grabbed Roman’s horns like handles and pulled his brother up. 

This felt weirdly violating, but he was able to sit. 

Sorta. Kinda. His head was wobbling due to the new addition of two weights. If he tilted his head too far to either side it felt like he was going to lose his balance. 

Luckily, Roman spent a lot of time as a child balancing books on his head to practice his princess walk. 

At least the horns meant he was getting closer to the other side of this torture. 

He ate (more dragon meal, of course, seriously did Remus put crack in that?) and decided to work on the script while he felt better. 

He wrote about two lines before stopping. 

“Hey Jan, where is everyone else?”

Janus flipped a page in his book and barely even spared Roman a glance. “I told them you are sick, you were screaming earlier due to a fever dream, and that I was taking care of you.” 

A half lie, then. That was a comfort, at least, that Janus had given him the option to keep this hidden from them. 

He paused in his writing again. 

Janus didn’t get that option. 

He looked over at the snake, seeing the left side of his face. The long, thin line showing the separation of his jaw. The delicate, yellow-brown scales, and the pinkish, puffy eye that always looked a little out of place. 

“Janus?”

“Hmm?”

“You know I didn’t mean what I said.”

Janus looked up from his book for just a moment. “You’re gonna have to be more specific darling.”

“About your face. When I said it was creepy.”

He stiffened. Roman wouldn’t have noticed if he was any less of an observant person, but Janus’ finger gripped the book just a little bit tighter. 

“I- I need to look at yours. Your scales, I mean. Um, I should’ve given you some skincare stuff yesterday, but I forgot.”

Roman, deciding to let the previous conversation go, obediently flopped over into a sort of child’s pose, pulling his red tank top off. 

Janus moved beside him, and drummed his fingernails on Roman’s scaled back. 

“Does this tickle?”

“Nope.”

He ran his nails down, and as soon as he touched the part where scales met skin Roman let out a snort and a giggle. 

“Okay that tickles!” 

“There’s a lot of overlap with your scales, I don’t know how we’re going to clean them throughly.”

“Oh! Oh wait!” Roman summoned a spray bottle full of water. “Get them wet and watch what happens.”

Janus sprayed Roman’s back a couple times and watched, amazed, as his scales lifted up, revealing a hint of their underside and becoming more like thorns. 

“Oh that is _neat.”_

“Isn’t it cool?” Roman said with a smile. “Wait, can’t Remus’ scales do it too?”

“Roman, Remus hasn’t taken a shower in years. His scales get clean when he sheds.”

Roman chuckled as Janus went back to inspecting his scales. He made note of their shape, colour, texture, anything that could be important for diagnosing an illness later. 

“Well, they look fine, and there’s no sign of your wings yet.” Roman attempted to sit up, once again being pinned by his massive horns. 

God, these were going to be annoying, huh. 

“Where is Remus?” He asked, just now noticing that his twin wasn’t in the room. He must’ve gotten so absorbed in his writing again that he didn’t notice Remus left. 

“Downstairs, making up more excuses for your absence. If they thought you were ill any longer Virgil would force his way up here.”

Roman wanted to laugh, but honestly the concern was was sweet. “What are you going with now?”

“You were so bored after being sick you went on a quest. Which, let’s be honest, is a fantastic lie.”

Oh. That was pretty realistic, but- that meant they thought he was ignoring them, and Roman didn’t want that! “Are they… mad?” He asked hesitantly. 

“A little, but they know you, and they’ll get over it. They miss you more.”

Well that was sweet, even if he hated to make them worry. 

Janus ran a comforting hand through his hair and Roman let out a little purr. He wanted to go see his family, truly he did, but- what would they think? The scales, the horns, and he was going to have _wings?_ Jesus, Virgil would have a panic attack. 

Janus rubbed down his neck and back, massaging into his tense, sore shoulders. 

“Ow!” 

That hurt! Well, kinda. It was like- like when you press on a tendon in your wrist, and it makes you finger move, but this just made something _lurch_ in his back. 

Janus paused, slowly tracing down the tendon with a fingertip as Roman yelped in pain. 

“Ahh, I see.”

“Ouch- see what exactly?!”

“Your main tendon is already formed! Oh that’s good news, your wings will definitely be out in a day or two.”

Roman bit his lip and shifted to get comfortable. “Great.” That filled him with a shit ton of anxiety. 

“IM BACK FUCKERS!” Remus shouted, throwing the door open and tossing Roman a red apple. “Grabbed snacks.” Roman caught the apple out of the air as Remus bit into his green one. 

“You.” He pointed at Roman and spoke with his mouth full. “Fire breathing lesson. Nearly burned my eyebrows off when your horns came in.”

Roman shrugged and took a bite of his apple. “Okay. I mean, I’ve done it before, and it’s not hard.”

—————

It was a little hard. 

Getting the flame to come out was easy. Extremely easy. Scarily easy. The hard part was controlling the size, temperature, and direction of said flame. 

Apparently, you could really only make short, hot flames, or large, cooler flames (as though a fire can be cool). Small, less intense flames were a sign of illness and huge, extremely hot flames were difficult to produce because of their raw power. 

Roman started with making shorter, hotter flames. Apparently, if he controlled the intensity just right, a blue flame would not go past the length of his hand. 

Getting a flame that small and hot was proving to be a challenge. 

“Come on, Ro, it’s less breath, more force.”

“The force and the breath happen at the same time!” Roman whined. 

“No they don’t. Don’t be dumb.” 

Remus definitely was a… tough love sort of teacher. 

After his 7th big flame Remus smacked him up the head. 

“Hey!”

“Are you stupid?! You’re not listening to me!”

“It’s hard!”

“No it’s not. You’re thinking about it too much.” Remus snapped his fingers and a heat-proof glove appeared on Roman’s hand. 

“What-“ 

“Stick your hand out, shut your eyes, and breath fire.”

He did, and as expected he could feel the warmth of the flame near his outstretched hand. 

“Now as you exhale, bring your hand closer _and make the flame smaller._ Less breath, same amount of force.”

Roman slowly, very slowly, exhaled, moving his protected hand behind the flame as it started to shrink. 

And surprisingly, the heat grew. 

He wanted to peek, but Remus slapped a hand over his eyes. “No looking, you’ll lose focus.”

The flame got smaller and smaller, hotter and hotter. 

“Good, Ro, that’s good.”

He was almost out of breath. 

“Look! You did it!”

The cover on his eyes went away and he opened his eyes to see a blue flame about the length of his hand, right before he ran out of breath and the flame died. 

He looked up at Remus’ smiling face. 

“That’s a good start for today!”

—————

The next day it felt like his back had been beaten to a bloody pulp. His entire upper back and shoulders were a swath of aches and pains, so sensitive the slightest movement caused _everything_ to hurt. 

Fire breathing lessons were put on hold as Roman could basically only move to go to the bathroom. 

Roman groaned as he moved into a cat-stretch for the 10th time that day, trying to make _something_ feel right. His skin felt tight around him, like a pair of clothes that were too small and seconds from bursting open. 

If he could just… _stretch right,_ he could rip that clothing right open and he could _breathe_ again. 

Never mind that the “clothing” was his skin. Gross metaphors weren’t really his strong suit. 

Remus was comforting him with hilariously vulgar tales of his adventures. It felt like when they were little, and they’d play together all day and night, without a care in the world…

Suddenly Roman’s bed felt too big, too empty, with not nearly enough personal items. How would he sleep with no personal items? He should get some, immediately- _ow._

Oww ow ow- oh, this weird nostalgic feeling was interrupted with sharp bursts of pain stabbing him in the back. He whimpered, curling up into a ball and wishing he had some ice. 

The stabbing pain didn’t fade, it was only growing worse, oh god it hurt so bad, like a thousand daggers pushing out of his skin from the inside, he couldn’t breathe it hurt so bad-

Remus. He was in Remus’ arms. He smelled so… safe. He’d make the pain stop…

They were sinking out, which made the daggers grow and sharpen, almost piercing though. 

_I’ve changed my mind,_ Roman thought, panicking as the pain grew. _I don’t want wings, I don’t want to fly, I want to go back to normal, please!_

He was placed on something soft and… smelly? It smelled salty, like the ocean, like rotting seaweed and fish like after a red tide, and under all that a smell of smoke and blood. Roman balled up the not-at-all-soft sheets in his hands and whimpered. His inner flame roared at the protective feeling the nest gave him. 

Here, he’d be safe. Remus would protect him. 

“I know it hurts, dumbass, but you gotta breathe, okay?”

Was he breathing? No, no he wasn’t, it hurt too bad, breathing hurt, moving at all hurt. 

“They’re coming Ro, just relax.”

Relax? How the hell was he supposed to relax?!

He felt his body morph, change, stretch like silly putty, like slime, until his back wasn’t quite solid anymore. His skin, muscles, bones and tendons became horrifically liquified, like hot glass being poured into a new mold. 

He could only tell he was screaming because of the sting in his throat. 

Fire erupted from his mouth, scorching the ceiling as he thrashed and struggled, trying desperately to make the pain _stop._

Someone was singing. Not Remus, but-

“Come little children, I'll take thee away. Into a land of enchantment~

Come little children, the time's come to play. Here in my garden of shadows~”

Janus? Was Janus singing?

That was so nice of him, and his voice was so soothing… 

Roman might have to sleep. He was so tired, and in so much pain, he couldn’t take it anymore, this was worse than his horns, worse than anything-

The room started going black, the only thing he could feel was Janus’ voice and his inner flame roaring in his chest. 

The blackness consumed even that, and Roman passed out. 

—————

As he woke up, he pain wasn’t so bad anymore. Janus rubbed up and down his stiff back, and started to massage… something. 

Roman grunted as the something was flooded with a pins-and-needles feeling, a horrible sensation of his wings coming to life.

His wings. 

_ Holy shit he has wings. _

He let out a strangled yelp and frantically tried to get up, eager to rush to a mirror and see what the damage was. He had to see, he didn’t want wings in the first place but they at least should look regal!

As soon as he managed to sit up his head spun with dizziness and he nearly fell over. Janus caught him and laid him back down, where regrettably decided to stay. Jan continued rubbing out all the pins and needles until his wings flooded with the warmth of new blood. 

“Ohh look at them! They’re so small and naked!” Remus squealed. 

Roman blinked heavily and rubbed his still-spinning head. “N-naked?”

“Yeah! You don’t get scales for a few days.” 

Huh? What? He didn’t have scales yet? 

He looked down and noticed the absolutely _filthy_ bed- pile- nest of blankets and pillows he has been resting on. This was Remus’ room, though he couldn’t understand why they went here of all places. 

“Can I go back to my room, please?”

“In a sec.” Janus moved to rub around the joint that connected the wings to his back. “How are they feeling?” 

Roman shrugged, trying to really _feel_ his wings. Which was hard to do, like, it’s hard to really feel your leg. It’s just- a part of you. Inseparable. 

“Can you move the right one for me?”

He took a second to remember which side was his right before folding the wing up. 

Ohhh god his muscles were tense. Holy shit did he _rip_ something?

“And the left one up.”

Ohhh Jesus Christ his poor muscles. His poor, sore muscles. 

“And them both down.” 

Janus made him flap his wings about 5 times, each time torturing his aching back. Then, Remus helped him stand up. 

The weight of his back and head made him want to slouch worse than Virgil. At least the wings were a little bit of counterbalance to his horns.

He tried to take a step- 

Oof everything hurt. He couldn’t wait to get to his room and get a look at his wings so he could make sure all this pain was worth it. 

—————

It was definitely not worth it. 

“What the hell?!”

They looked- they were-

_ Tiny. _

Even if he stretched them out as far as he could, the tips of his wings only reached his elbow. He couldn’t fly with these! 

And they weren’t even _scaled,_ they were just fleshy, pink and naked!

He gave them a puny, half-hearted flap. And worse, Janus demanded he do exercises every day in order to build up his muscles while ins wings continued to grow. Physical therapy! For a dragon!

What happened to regal, elegant, prince Roman? Princes didn’t have bare, ugly, pathetic tiny wings! 

He wanted to cry. They were simply hideous! He looked grotesque! 

He pouted at his reflection, trying to will his wings bigger. Remus’ cackling came from behind him. 

“Shut up! It’s not funny!” Roman whined, flapping his tiny, oh so tiny, wings. 

He was even uglier and less regal than _Remus._ How was that even possible?! That was like saying 1+1=5. 

“Of course it’s funny! You’ve got micro-wings! That’s funny!”

Roman only pouted harder. “Staaaap.”

“Sorry that mine are bigger and cooler than yours.”

“Jan said they would grow!! It’ll just take a while!!!” He actually said it would take a few weeks for them to reach full size, and only then would he be able to fly. 

He was going to be stuck looking like a plucked chicken for a FEW WEEKS. 

“You’re just jealous that mine are big and cool and actually useable.”

“No I’m not!” He was. Roman was so jealous he was surprised he hadn’t gone green with envy. 

“Yes you are.”

“I’m not!!”


End file.
